John says: I am driving down I-5 and I am on the way to pick up Andy and Gavin from the airport. I called earlier and Andy had informed me that she had in fact rented a car. So why am I going? I mean, I was heading down there incase they needed a ride. I was coming from Friday Harbor, taking a day off, getting on the ferry, 20 dollars in gas, spending the night at Chris's. But she already has a car. On the phone I told her I would be there when they arrive. Why not, he is my son, and that is what a father does, a good father. He would take off from work and head down to see his son who was arriving from Brussels. He would do this even if it was for only 15 minutes. I am doing this right now. I am looking up at the planes as they humble themselves downward to earth. I wonder if Gavin and Andy are on that very plane [looking at a shy looking plane]. Are they fatter, are they taller. I am fatter. What could a do in the next 15 minutes to change that? [I tighten up my abs and wait for them to burn. These effects will be long term.] I think about doing some push-ups when I arrive in the airport. I look up into the mirror and check my neck fat; I push my chin into my esophagus. I need to shave, I need to lose weight. I want to be better looking for Andy, a sort of, "hey look at me this is how I am doing now that we are divorced, don't you wish you had never divorced me." And this is what I thinking, this is what is going through my head as I am driving down I-5 on the way to pick up [even though they don't need a ride] my son and my ex-wife from the airport.

Paul says: Kelly McGillis: too tall, too ugly, there is just something about here that is not right.

David: says: why resist, why wallow?

James Says: earlier today I must have killed 20 or more house flies. They were buzzing around my work place window. The whole thing reminded me of death and decay, something Ethiopian, something rotten. Afterwards I felt extremely guilty. I should just shooed them all away.

Isaac says: My penis has been doing this weird thing lately, a sort of, marching-straight-ahead thing, instead of a lean-to-one-side thing. This is bad because I find it pressing itself forward with no room for movement so it then decides to retreat. My penis curls up inside of itself like a north face sleeping bag. Every chance I get I reach down into my levies and give it a tug or two. I like to keep the blood flowing. There is a remote chance that it is not getting any blood at all. One morning I will wake up and my penis will be purple and withered and it will just fall off. . My cock needs blood and warmth. What could be causing all of this? Is my wang getting smaller? Will I soon have one of those tiny little dicks that I am forced to hold down when taking a shit, rather than let it "hang" down into the toilet? I want to be hung I need to be hung. I should be hung for all these things I done.

Abiel says: above in the sky my friend is bleeding to death from a gun shot wound to the chest cavity. Only if I knew more, if studied more, if I prepared for this situation- he would still be alive (he is sure to die) he would have had a chance. All I guy needs is chance. Everything is going cold and I donít know what to do... [So I jump out of the plane.} There is a parachute stuffed into my guts with a Kevlar tube surgically coming up through my spine to save the day.

James the lesser: what I need now is a blow job. Something 24 hours a day. To walk around with while listening to my favorite tunes on I-pod and watching cable. An actual human being (female) on a skateboard or vehicles that moves in multiple directions, (shopping cart, office chair) something, someone leeched onto my cock like those little fish that swim with the sharks.

Thomas says: I heard she has a new boyfriend, is driving around with a car full of DVDís a big screen TV and trips to Disneyland. I heard there is plenty of beer and wine and hip hop music. Good times that you arenít having, that you arenít going to have.

Andrew says: who? I am free your are you free, we are all free to move in what ever direction we want to, much like a shopping cart with one bad wheel, or an office chair or a small man in survival suit floating in the middle of the pacific ocean [looking like a seal] free to swim in any direction

Jesus says [passing the wine]: like those small fish swimming with the sharks?

And we all laugh